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Wednesday, May 11, 2011

I hate leaving you, but know that you're always with me. Even you, you little fuzzy bike helmet head. I somehow figured out a way to compress your hair and put you in my pocket. I'd take you out in the open, but airplanes figure out a way to not let you come with me without charging me a ridiculous fee. So I prefer to sneak you in my pocket.

You're sleeping now. I left a kiss for you under your pillow. And I told the Ooogie-Boogie to protect you.